


Letters From Noah

by motherbearof3



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-03-22 10:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13762203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherbearof3/pseuds/motherbearof3
Summary: Noah decides he wants to write a letter to Uncle Rafa asking him to come back. He enlists the help of his 'adoptive' grandparent at school.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me in the shower -- where many great ideas are born. Yes, I've given Peter Stone a small part. Not because I like him. I don't. Not at all. But because I really do think he's going to try. In reality, I should be pissed at Jack McCoy for using Stone. But I love Jack too much to do that.
> 
> As always, these lovely characters aren't mine. I just give them new things to do and say because I don't like what the people who get paid to do it write. Please let me know what you think.

“What would you like to do today, Noah?” Mildred Torledsky asked. “Read a book? Work a puzzle?”

“I want you to help me write a letter to my Uncle Rafa,” replied the boy.

Noah Benson and his classmates had been matched up with retired men and women as adoptive grandparents and once a week they visited the school and engaged in a variety of activities with the children. Frequently it was unstructured, where they could read or do puzzles or help them with school work but they had also taken field trips together to places such as the museum.

“I can help you with that, of course, but why don’t you ask your mom to help you write a letter? Is Uncle Rafa her brother?”

The adopted adults had been provided a little background about the child they with whom they were matched and Mrs. Torledsky, or Millie as her friends called her, knew that Olivia Benson was a single parent and also a lieutenant with the NYPD.

“He’s not my real uncle. Mr. Barba is a friend of my mom’s. They used to work together but he had to go away and my mom has been really sad since he left. I want to ask him when he’s coming back,” Noah explained.

At the man’s surname, something clicked in her head. Millie remembered reading about a former Assistant District Attorney who had been tried for turning off the life support of a terminally ill infant whose parents were at odds over the decision to do just that. If she remembered correctly, his last name was Barba. Now her curiosity was piqued. She had met Lt. Benson and liked her.

“Is Mr. Barba -- Uncle Rafa -- your mom’s boyfriend?” she asked.

“No,” Noah replied, drawing the vowel out a little as he thought about it. “I don’t know. But she misses him. So do I. I want him to come back so she’ll be happy again.”

“Noah, that is very sweet,” she put an arm around the boy and gave him a hug. “So let’s write this letter. Why don’t you get us some paper?”

He scampered across the classroom to the bin where his teacher kept lined paper and was back with several sheets.

“Here you go!”

“Now are you sure you don’t want to write it yourself and I’ll help you spell the words?” she asked. He hesitated.

“Why don’t you do part and I’ll do part? You start. Do you know how to start a letter?”

He nodded. “Yes. You start a letter with Dear and the person’s name.”

“That’s right. So at the top of the page you can write that.”

Holding the pencil carefully, frowning in concentration, Noah slowly spelled out D-E-A-R then looked up expectantly. Mrs. Torledsky spelled the next word for him and he printed U-N-C-L-E and then without stopping R-A-F-A.

“I know how to spell Rafa. I saw my mom write it before and it’s on her phone,” he offered by way of explanation. She nodded. Then he handed her the pencil. “Can you write the next part please?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

For the rest of their time together, Noah dictated what he wanted to say in the letter and Millie dutifully scribed it on the paper. He chose his words carefully. Finally, he declared it finished and took the paper back to add the final sentence and his name at the bottom.

“Do you know where to mail this?” she asked him, folding the paper neatly. He shook his head, his face falling as he realized he didn’t; and he couldn’t ask his mom because he was pretty sure she didn’t know where Uncle Rafa was either.

Mrs. Torledsky patted his hand. “Let me see what I can do, honey. Can I take this and send it if I find an address?”

“Yes, please.”

After dinner that night, when Millie and her husband retired Judge Morris Torledsky were having their one cup each of decaffeinated coffee, she casually asked,

“Morrie, did you ever have an ADA by the name of Rafael Barba in your courtroom?”

“The one that just pulled the plug on that baby? No. He was young when I was on the bench and I was gone by the time he made to the big time with SVU. He was a good lawyer, though. Followed a few of his cases. Shame that he had to quit. But he really didn’t have a choice. Not guilty doesn’t mean innocent and he’s smart enough to know that.”

Morrie Torledsky may have been retired but his mind was still sharp and he hadn’t been married to Millie for more than 50 years not to be able to tell when her question wasn’t as innocent as she tried to make it sound. He looked at her through the lenses of his glasses over the rim of his cup. “Why do you ask, Millie?”

Millie explained about Noah Benson and what he’d asked her to do that day. Getting the letter from her purse, she showed it to her husband. He read it, his craggy face breaking into a smile. Handing it back, he said,

“Sounds like that boy and his mother have it bad for Barba. But how are you going to get this letter to him?”

“I thought maybe you might have an idea, dear.”

The old judge pursed his lips. “You could start with his assistant. She might know where he is or at least where his HR mail is being forwarded. He may have quit, but I’m sure he had a paycheck or two left and the county can’t stand loose ends when it comes to insurance policies and retirement accounts, so they’ll be sending him forms to complete and return.”

After her weekly hair appointment the next day, Millie Torledsky found herself at 1 Hogan Place, a building she hadn’t been in in close to 20 years. After passing through security and trying not to roll her eyes at having her pocketbook searched, she made her way to where she’d been told was Rafael Barba’s old office, now occupied by a Peter Stone. Millie remembered his father. He was a DA when Morrie was on the bench and she’d met him several times. A beautiful woman with dark skin sat behind a desk in the outer office. The nameplate said her first name was Carmen.

“Can I help you?” she said as Millie approached.

“I hope you can,” the older woman replied and explained what she was trying to do for Noah. Carmen smiled.

“What a sweet boy! I wish I could help you, but I haven’t heard from Mr. Barba.”

“Actually, I have,” said a male voice. Millie turned her head and saw a tall young man coming from the interior office. She knew at once he was Peter Stone; he was the spitting image of his father, Ben. He held out his hand. “Peter Stone.”

“Millie Torledsky. You look just like your father, Mr. Stone,” she said.

“I’ve been told that a lot recently,” he replied. “I heard you say you were trying to reach Rafael Barba. May I ask why?”

“I have a friend who wants to contact him. Let him know he’s thinking of him.” Millie was deliberately vague. Clearly he hadn’t heard what she’d told Carmen and something told her young Mr. Stone wasn’t exactly friends with his predecessor.

“That’s nice. I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” Stone said.

“So you have an address?” she prompted.

“Yes. He actually contacted me to ask if I’d send him one of his personal reference books. It must have gotten mixed up with the ones that belong to the county and didn’t get packed with his things.” Stone turned and walked back to his desk where he copied an address onto a small square of paper. Returning to where Millie waited with Carmen, he handed it to her.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Stone,” she said, tucking it into her pocketbook. “This will make my friend very happy.”

“You’re welcome Mrs. Torledsky. Nice to meet you.”

“You as well. Carmen, it was nice to meet you too, dear.”

“Tell your friend I hope he hears back from Mr. Barba,” said Carmen with a smile.

“I will. Good bye, dear.” Millie gave a little wave and walked out of the office.

Carmen watched her go and hoped wherever Mr. Barba was, Noah’s letter would help convince him to return home to all the people who loved and missed him. She resisted the urge to turn and glare at Stone for not telling her he knew where her former boss had gone. He was trying. He really was. He couldn’t help the fact that Rafael Barba was so well loved. The fact that Jack McCoy had chosen him to prosecute hadn’t helped when he assumed the vacated ADA position.

MIllie went straight to the post office and mailed the envelope with Noah’s letter to the address Peter Stone had provided. Not knowing the Benson family address, she used her own in the upper left corner. She couldn’t wait to tell Noah she had sent his letter!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rafael gets Noah’s letter.

Rafael Barba unlocked the small door in the wall of the rural post office and pulled out four items. Two were pieces of junk mail, one was a card notifying him of a larger package that needed collected at the window and the last was a nondescript white envelope. It was addressed in unfamiliar handwriting and the return address was New York City. His stomach clenched a little. There was only one person there who knew where he was. Could someone have tracked him down? Taking a deep breath, he exhaled and went to the window for his package.

As expected, it was the book he’d asked Peter Stone to send him. He hated having to contact that bastard, but damned if he was going to let him keep one of his personal law books. Rafael knew he could have easily called or emailed Carmen and asked her to send it, but that would have meant questions he didn’t want to answer. And while he trusted his former assistant implicitly, he couldn’t be 100% sure she wouldn’t tell Olivia, even if her motivation was just to ease the lieutenant’s mind. No, Stone had been his only choice as much as it galled him to do so.

Leaving the post office and climbing into the later model car he’d traded his more expensive one for when he left New York, he drove first to the local grocery store for a few items then returned to the small house he was renting. His expensive leather furniture looked out of place in the living area and his large wooden desk took up most of the second bedroom he was using as an office. Rafael took a cup of coffee into said room and booted up his laptop. It had been about six weeks and he was still unemployed. Financially, he was stable, but having nothing to do but read for fun and binge on Netflix shows had grown old. He had a job since he was old enough to get a work permit from school. First it was just to have spending money, then to save for college before his teachers encouraged him to apply for scholarships. In college it was to give him something else to think about than studying. Since his reputation was a little tarnished now, letters to potential employers had to be worded just so in order to get even a return email or call; let alone an interview. He sighed while he waited for his email to load. Accustomed to lightning fast internet in the city, he kept telling himself he was lucky it wasn’t dial-up. Taking another drink of his coffee, he grimaced. Grocery store coffee. On a notepad he jotted a reminder to order some online. Once the website loaded, he composed a note to Peter Stone:

_“Got the book today. Thanks again.”_

Short and sweet. He wasn’t about to engage in email pleasantries with him. Once that was sent, he resumed his job search. Today he actually had a few replies from people who were interested in talking to him. One was in California. Did he want to go that far? All the way across the country from his mother? From Olivia? Shaking his head, he declined the invitation. For a moment he allowed himself to get lost in thought about the woman he’d left behind. He loved her. He had for years. She was why he was a different person; why he was even able to empathize with baby Drew’s parents. The notice of an incoming email pulled his thoughts away from where he had successfully kept them away for weeks. It was a reply from Stone. He rolled his eyes. Of course he replied. Clicking it open, he read:

_“You’re welcome. Gave your address to the wife of a retired judge: Millie Torledsky. She said a friend of hers wanted to let you know they were thinking of you. I hope you don’t mind. I have not said anything to Lt. Benson per your request, although I think you should consider contacting her. She puts up a good front, but she’s not okay. She can’t even bring herself to come into my office.”_

“Sonofabitch!” he exclaimed.

Rafael got up from the chair and stalked into the kitchen where he’d left that unassuming white envelope. Snatching it off the counter, he ripped it open and pulled out the folded paper. He frowned. It didn’t look like the kind of stationery the wife of a retired judge would use. He vaguely remembered Judge Torledsky from his early days in the DA’s office. As he unfolded the sheet and his eyes fell on the first line, his legs refused to support him and he sat hard into a chair at the small table.

DEAR UNCLE RAFA, he read, written in an uneven child’s hand and the rest of the words blurred for a moment until he blinked away the sudden tears that formed in his eyes.

“Noah,” he whispered to the empty room. He began reading again. The body of the letter was written in the same handwriting that addressed the envelope. Clearly someone helped the five year old with this. Someone other than his mother. Her handwriting wasn’t this neat, Rafael thought with a wry smile.

_Dear Uncle Rafa,_

_I asked Mrs. Millie, who is my school grandma, to help me write a letter to you. You’ve been gone a long time and I want to know when you are coming home. I miss you. Momma misses you too. She has been sad since you left. She tells me she’s not, but I know she is._

_She said you needed to take a little vacation from work, but vacations don’t last this long. Can you please write back to me and let me know when you are coming home? Uncle Sonny and Uncle Fin aren’t as much fun as you. You make better robots._

_Please come home soon._

_Love, Noah_

The last two lines the boy had penned himself and please was spelled PLEEZE, making it all the more endearing. And heartbreaking.

Rafael stared at the paper, re-reading the letter, astounded at the lengths Noah had gone to contact him. A hot tear rolled down his face. Then another one. He put the letter on the table and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to staunch the flow. One quiet sob escaped him before he managed to pull himself together. Then he stood and went in search of the bottle that used to live in the bottom drawer of his desk in New York. It was still in the box he’d packed it up into, along with the four heavy glasses. The last time those glasses were used was the night he’d told Jack McCoy about his father. Carmen, bless her, had washed them the next day and returned them to the drawer. He poured a hefty amount in a glass and took a large swallow, relishing the punishing burn in his throat.

Retrieving the letter from the table, he took it and his glass, sat on his couch and read the letter again. He didn’t remember Olivia telling him anything about a school grandparent, so it must be something new since he’d left. Obviously Noah didn’t want his mother to know about this letter. He was amused that the boy had been paired with a retired judge’s wife and even more intrigued that the woman hadn’t told Liv about the letter. What had Noah told her about him? Part of him wanted to run to his phone and call Olivia. They hadn’t spoken since that day outside the courthouse. Part of him was also ashamed of the way he’d acted and how he’d just disappeared. She probably hated him. But based on what Stone said, it didn’t seem that way. She couldn’t even go into his old office?

There was so much more he wanted to say to her that day. She looked so devastated when he told her he had to move on. He didn’t mean forever and he didn’t mean from her. He meant he from his life as a prosecutor and that he just needed some time to figure it all out, but the words stuck in his throat. So he just walked away, packed up his belongings and left. He still wasn’t sure how he’d ended up in the rural town in northeast Pennsylvania. The day he traded in his car, he filled the new one with boxes and luggage and just started driving. His second stop for fuel and of course, coffee, found him in a small town that felt inviting and restful. One night in a family run motel turned into a week before the motherly owner suggested he might want to look into a house that was for rent nearby. He liked the house, had some of his furniture delivered out of storage and here he had remained. Hiding from everyone and everything and happy about it. Until now. Until Saint Peter Fucking Stone gave a sweet old lady his address! Anger surged through him. Standing up, he knocked back what remained in his glass and threw it into the brick fireplace where it exploded into pieces as it hit the cast iron grate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is underway! Comments welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting no reply, Noah sends a second letter. What will Rafael do this time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little longer than the last two. Almost double the number of words I think. But it didn’t work to split it in half. Enjoy!

Noah couldn’t wait to see Mrs. Torledsky again at school. He fidgeted all morning until his teacher said she was going to move his card from green to yellow if he couldn’t sit still. That day the class was meeting their ‘grandparents’ in the art room to work on an Easter project for their parents. Noah saw Millie at a table and ran to her as soon as he entered the room.

“Did you mail my letter to Uncle Rafa?” he asked eagerly. Millie smiled at him.

“I did, Noah,” she said. “I was able to get his address from the man who is doing your Uncle Rafa’s old job.”

“Mr. Stone?” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Momma doesn’t like him.”

“I’m sure that’s just because she hasn’t gotten to know him yet,” Millie assured the boy. She didn’t know exactly what the relationship was between Lt. Benson and the missing Rafael Barba, but it sounded like it was affecting the woman’s feelings towards his replacement.

“I asked Uncle Rafa to write back to me but I haven’t gotten any mail,” Noah said as they got to work on the art project.

“I put my address on the envelope, so maybe he will send it there. I’ll let you know if I get anything,” she promised.

By the time the two met again after the school’s Easter break, Millie had to tell the boy she’d not receive any mail for him, but neither had the first letter been returned. Noah asked her to pen another one for him, which she gladly did. She had been investigating the former ADA and between what she’d read and heard from some of Morrie’s judge friends, Barba was a good man and an excellent lawyer. She hoped whatever was keeping him away would get resolved for the boy’s sake.

Rafael hadn’t been able to bring himself to reply to Noah’s letter. He’d sat down several times with a pad and pen and wrote some sentences, but none of them felt right enough to send and the pages ended up crumpled in the trash can. Several weeks after the first letter arrived, he stopped by the post office during a run, sweaty and out of breath. He’d taken up running again; something he hadn’t done in years. Now he remembered why he liked it in the first place. It gave him an opportunity to clear his mind. Pulling his key ring from his pocket he unlocked the door. He didn’t check his mail often. There was no need since the few bills he had currently were paid online and he’d cancelled all his subscriptions in favor of online publications. Only one thing lay in the box: a plain white envelope. His heart rate, which had begun to slow down after the exercise, sped up again. Retrieving it, he tucked it into his pocket and jogged home; wondering what Noah had to say this time.

Unlocking the door, he toed off his sneakers and removed clothing as he made his way to the bathroom. He twisted the shower faucet on, knowing he was procrastinating reading Noah’s letter. Removing the letter from the pocket of his hoodie before putting it in the hamper, he laid it carefully on the sink, before stepping under the water. When he was clean and re-dressed with towel dried hair, Rafael took the letter into the kitchen where he filled a large glass with water and sat at the table to read and drink. Slowly opening the envelope, he pulled out the paper inside and closed his eyes briefly before unfolding it and reading. Once again, Noah had written the first line and the last two himself and the rest was in Millie Torledsky’s immaculate penmanship.

_Dear Uncle Rafa_

_You haven't written back to me and I don't understand why. Mrs. Millie said my first letter wasn't sent back to her so I know that you got it. Are you mad at me? Are you mad at Momma? Did we do something wrong?_

_Are you never coming home? Is that why you won't write back?_

_Please write back. I miss you very much and so does Momma._

_Love, Noah_

This time, there was a note written beneath Noah’s signature:

_Mr. Barba, I don’t know anything about the circumstances behind your departure from New York except what I read in the papers. But Noah deserves at least to know if you intend on returning. If not, then he can stop holding out hope and move on._

_Millie Torledsky_

Move on. A complete stranger had thrown his own words back in his face. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Is that how Olivia felt when he said that to her? The thought that Noah even considered he was angry at him or Olivia or if they’d done something wrong was devastating. He could never be angry with them. He loved them. They’d become part of his life. A part that he’d foolishly left behind. Rafael looked at his watch, if he left now, he could be home before dark. Home. He took a deep breath and exhaled. He could breathe again at the thought. Getting up from the table, he went to his bedroom and threw a few items in an overnight bag. Wallet, phone and Noah’s two letters went in his pockets. Locking the house, he climbed in his car and turned it in the direction of New York City.

The closer he got, the happier and lighter his heart felt. It was as if the miles were peeling away layers of sadness and unhappiness. When he saw the Manhattan skyline, however, he began to get nervous. What would Olivia say when she saw him? He’d decided to go straight to her place. It was dinner time and he hoped she — and Noah — was home. He circled the block twice before parking; both to find an available spot and work up the courage. After feeding the parking meter, he entered the building and took the stairs to their floor, giving himself more time to decide what to say. He needn’t have, because all thoughts fled when the door opened.

Olivia had just dispatched Noah to wash his hands when she heard the knock. She wasn’t expecting anyone but that didn’t mean anything. People had taken to appearing at her door at random moments. Fin, Rollins, Carisi, even Dodds and Rita Calhoun of all people had stopped by to check on her; as if they expected to find her curled in a ball with the lights off. She hadn’t done that after the first day, she thought wryly, placing her eye to the peephole wondering who it was this time. The person she saw on the other side made her clutch the doorknob for support. She stared at Rafael until his hand came up to knock again. Then she stepped back and pulled the door open. This was the day she had waited for. Prayed for. Every day since that bitterly cold one in February outside the courthouse. She’d thought about what she wanted to say so many times but now, looking a him in her doorway, her mind was blank. It appeared his was as well, because he said nothing. Before either of them could get a word out, Noah appeared at her side.

“Momma, who’s at the -- Uncle Rafa! You came home! You got my letters!” The boy flung himself at the man, making him take a step backward as he caught him in his arms. Rafael and Olivia’s eyes met over Noah’s head, both filled with emotion at the boy’s reaction. Finally Olivia found her voice.

“Letters?” she asked. Her son turned his head, his arms still wrapped around Rafael’s waist.

“I wrote to Uncle Rafa. Well, Mrs. Millie wrote the letters and she’s the one who got his address from Mr. Stone and mailed them. But I sent him letters asking him to tell me when he was coming home and to come home soon because we missed him so much. But he didn’t write back and I thought he was mad at us, that we did something wrong, but now he’s here!” He smiled happily.

“Mrs. Millie -- Mr. Stone -- what?”

“Can we continue this inside?” asked Rafael, feeling like any minute the neighbors were going to start opening doors.

“That might be best,” she agreed, and stepped backward, allowing room for her son to tow the former ADA into the apartment by the hand he’d now taken hold of. She closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, her head swimming with the information she’d just been given. Then, pushing off of it, she trailed after them into the living area where Noah was still talking.

“......you’re going to stay for dinner, right? It’s spaghetti night.”

“Uncle Rafa might be busy, honey,” Olivia said. “Just getting back and all.”

She was starting to do a slow burn at the thought of him getting letters from her son and not letting her know. For not replying to the boy. She was angry at Millie Torledsky and Noah’s teacher for not saying anything to her. What if she hadn’t wanted Noah to contact him? And Stone! Peter Stone had known where he was and hadn’t told her?

“Actually, I’m not,” he admitted. “But if you don’t want me to stay, Liv, I’ll go.”

“Please?” Noah begged. “You’ve been gone so long, Uncle Rafa! Please stay for dinner? Tell him he can stay, Momma.”

Again, the adult’s eyes met over the child standing between them, still holding Rafael’s hand. He could see Olivia was angry. Justifiable so, he thought. But he didn’t want to get into with her in front of Noah and he was sure she didn’t either.

“Of course he can stay, sweet boy,” she soothed him. “Uncle Rafa is always welcome.” She turned and walked to the kitchen. “Dinner should be ready by now.”

Noah chattered away at him while they ate about everything that had been going on since he left, so the lack of conversation between him and Olivia wasn’t noticeable to anyone but them. When dinner was over, he offered to clean up while she gave Noah his bath, since he’d requested Rafael read his bedtime story. Not being able to deny the boy anything at this point, he agreed. But only one, he said, using the excuse of needing to go see his mother. After he finished reading, he kissed Noah on top of his head and bid him good night.

“Good night, Uncle Rafa. I’m so glad you’re home,” the boy said, throwing his arms around him for the second time that evening. Rafael’s chest tightened with emotion and he swallowed the lump that appeared in his throat.

Returning the embrace he murmured quietly, “Me too, _mijo_. Me too.” before turning and leaving the boy’s room. Olivia stood there in stunned silence. Did he just call her son, ‘my son’?

“Momma? Aren’t you happy Uncle Rafa came back?”

“What? Of course I am. Why?” she sat down on the bed beside him, fixing the covers and handing him Eddie the Elephant.

“Because you haven’t looked happy since he got here. You look like you’re mad at him.”

“Well, I am a little angry that he left without saying goodbye and stayed away without letting us know where he was,” she explained simply. “But, yes, I’m very happy he’s back. Go to sleep now. You have school tomorrow.”

She kissed him goodnight, turned off the bedside lamp and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Olivia was surprised to see Rafael standing at the window in the living room, looking out at the lights of the city. She thought perhaps he’d left without saying goodbye. He was good at that, she huffed. The sound made him turn around and she took a good look at him for the first time since he’d appeared at her door. He was a little thinner. His hair was longer, showing more gray and he was wearing a beard, trimmed short. It too, had gray running through it. For all the gray hair though, he looked younger. More relaxed. His clothing was relaxed as well. Sneakers on his feet, jeans, a long sleeved pullover shirt with no collar; the few buttons at the neck open.

“I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the city is at night,” he said, turning his head to look out the window again and then back at her as she crossed the room to stand closer to him. Before he could stop himself, or maybe because he didn’t want to stop himself he continued, “Almost as beautiful as you, Liv.”

He reached out a hand to touch her arm, but she pulled away.

“No, Rafael,” she said quietly, ever mindful of Noah down the hall. “No. You don’t get to appear at my door after all this time, call my son ‘ _mijo_ ’ and tell me I’m beautiful as if nothing ever happened.

“You left,” she whispered angrily, her brown eyes flashing. “Without a goodbye or something to even let me know where you were or if you were all right. I guess you were all right, though. But you know what? We weren’t. Not me. Not Noah. I told him you’d taken a vacation, but he kept telling me vacations didn’t last that long. And I guess he didn’t like my answers so he got Millie Torledsky to play detective and track you down.”

He stood there, quietly, he as she verbally assaulted him with all the pent up anger and frustration she’d been holding inside since February.

“Why did you come back, Rafael? You told me you needed to move on and you did. Now you’re back again. Why? For how long? Is this just a visit and you’re going to disappear again? I can’t go through that again. I can’t try and explain that to Noah. Again.”

Olivia sank down onto the couch and covered her face with her hands, trying hard to hold back tears. She didn’t want to let him see her cry. She’d gone so long without crying over him, if she started, she didn’t think she’d be able to stop. She heard the sound of rustling paper and looked up to see him pulling something from his back pocket. Unfolding the two letters from Noah, he placed them on the coffee table in front of her.

“These are the letters I got from Noah. They are the reason I’m back, Liv. He -- you -- both of you are why I came home.” He offered that little half smile he used only with her. Then he cleared his throat.

“I’m, ah, going to go get a hotel room. And I should probably go see my mother. Or at least call her and let her know I’m back. If you think you’re angry…” His voice trailed off. Olivia’s eyes were on the letters. She hadn’t looked at him. He stepped around the table and started for the door. As he passed by where she sat, her arm shot out and her hand grabbed his.

“Don’t go.” It was so soft, he almost didn’t realize she’d spoken. “Please, don’t go,” she repeated. Louder this time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, another cliffhanger. I’m sorry! Chapter 4 is in progress. Also, the clothes....all I kept seeing in my head was that black shirt Raul wore on stage in Chess! And the beard!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liv and Rafael have a heart to heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could easily be the last chapter in this. I haven’t decided. I’m thinking an epilogue might be in order.
> 
> My apologies if I’ve butchered the Spanish. It’s straight from Google translate.

He stopped mid-stride, his skin tingling where she was touching him. Rafael turned toward her, looking first down at her fingers curled around his wrist, then to her face. Olivia’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. He reached for her as she simultaneously stood and then they were in each others’ arms, clinging tightly to one another.

“I’m sorry, Liv. I’m so sorry. _Lo siento mucho._ ” In moments of emotion, he tended to lapse into Spanish, but he knew she understood his words. “I never meant to hurt you. Or Noah.”

Olivia buried her face in his shoulder and a muffled sob escaped her as she held him tighter. She hadn’t cried since that day outside the courthouse. But having his arms around her finally, she couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. And like the day in her office when she started to break down over Noah’s disappearance, he couldn’t bear it.

“ _No llores, cariña_ ,” he pleaded stroking her hair. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

Olivia made an unladylike sniffle and one of his hands went to his jeans pocket and produced a handkerchief. This made her laugh shakily.

“No suit, but still a handkerchief,” she teased, taking it and wiping her eyes and nose.

“My _abuelo_ told me you should always have one, because you never know when a lady will need it,” he told her.

“I still have the one you gave me in December,” she admitted. What she didn’t admit was that it had retained the scent of his cologne and sometimes in his absence she would take it out and hold it to her face, taking a small measure of comfort from it.

Rafael had still been holding her in a loose embrace and his arms tightened briefly around her again at this before he said, “Why don’t we sit? I feel like we still have a lot of things to say.”

She placed her palm against his cheek, liking the feel of the beard and replied, “You’re not wrong, Rafa.”

His heart gave a leap at the sound of the nickname on her lips. She’d said it once earlier but that was to Noah and preceded by uncle. It was different when she said it now. Maybe she could forgive him after all, he thought.

They sat down on the couch, him in the corner he would usually take when he came to her apartment to talk work and her more toward the middle and turned facing him, one leg bent on the cushions. Having lost the warmth of his embrace, Olivia positioned herself so they were touching. She needed the physical reminder that he was really there. She also wanted nothing more than to still be in his arms, but the rational side of her knew they needed to talk. Picking up the pages he’d put on the coffee table she said,

“Noah really wrote to you?”

“He did. Read them,” he encouraged. “Can I make us some coffee?”

She nodded. “You know where it is.”

He stood and went to the kitchen, busying himself making coffee. He didn’t want to sit there and look at her face while she read Noah’s letters.

Olivia slipped her reading glasses on her face. Her son’s familiar careful printing was at the top of the first sheet. DEAR UNCLE RAFA…… The page blurred as tears filled her eyes again. Blinking them away, she continued reading what Noah had dictated to Millie. When she got to

_I miss you. Momma misses you too. She has been sad since you left. She tells me she’s not, but I know she is._

she let out a gasp loud enough it brought Rafael back from the kitchen.

“Are you all right?” he asked. She waved her hand, unable to speak. Her sweet, sweet boy! He had seen through her forced smiles, stoic expressions and half truths. Barba retreated back to the coffee maker.

Olivia smiled at the boy saying that Fin and Carisi weren’t as fun and swapped the pages to read the second letter. This time, the tears fell when she read the lines asking if she or Noah had done something wrong and if the reason he hadn’t replied to the first letter was because he wasn’t coming home. Rafael returned to the room, a cup in each hand to find her wiping her eyes again with his handkerchief. Quickly placing them on the table, he sat beside her and gathered her into his arms once more. She rested her head on his shoulder and gave a shuddering sigh.

“My sweet boy,” she whispered.

“Is very smart,” he replied. “He knew you were hurting and I’m so sorry he had to see that. I don’t ever want him to see that again, Liv.

“When he asked if he or you had done something wrong, I knew I had to come back. I couldn’t have him thinking my leaving had to do with him. Or you.” He was rubbing his hand up and down her back and felt her relax into him. “I love you both too much.”

The words spilled out without thinking and he stopped moving his hand when he felt her tense slightly in his arms. She pulled back so she could look at him, her own face suddenly poker straight so he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“I’m sor—” he began, then stopped and shook his head. “No. I’m not sorry, dammit. I should have said that in February instead of waxing poetic and then running away like a coward.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head again, stopping her.

“I’m not done, Liv. That was the first time I’ve ever run from anything in my life. But I was afraid. I was afraid I’d failed you. So I threw pretty words at you. True words all the same, but not the ones you wanted -- needed -- to hear.

“The look on your face when I told you I had to move on broke my heart. But I’d already stepped in it and I was afraid to stop and tell you I didn’t mean you. Or Noah. That little boy in there is as much responsible for changing me as you are. He --” his voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. “He was all I could think of when I looked at Drew in that hospital crib. What if it was him, I thought. What if something happened and he was the child on the ventilator? I couldn’t let you endure that.”

Rafael shrugged slightly. “It may have started out as me trying to ease my own guilt over my father, but it became more about that fact that no parent should have to watch their child exist — not exist — like that. Because their pain is your pain. That’s what you told Stone, right?”

He flashed a smile when she quirked an eyebrow at him, wondering how he knew her words to Peter Stone at the entrance to the courthouse.

“Oh, please. I told you, that courthouse leaks like a sieve.” He opened his mouth to continue, but it was her turn to stop him. She placed gentle fingers to his lips.

“You’ve made your case, counselor. I get it. I just wish you’d told me all of this sooner, Rafael. Or maybe I should have listened to my heart and stopped you that day. We could have avoided all this.”

“What was your heart telling you?” His was now beating faster.

“That I love you, too. For probably longer than I realized. Then you left and I thought you didn’t, so —“

The rest of her words were swallowed by his lips on hers.

“I think we’ve done enough talking,” he said briefly, before kissing her again, putting his arms around her once more.

Olivia went willingly into his embrace, melting against him as part of her brain acknowledged kissing Rafael Barba was even better than she’d imagined it could be, while another part was trying to process the sensory overload: the taste of him on her tongue, the smell of him filling her nose, the feel of his muscles under her hands as they explored his back and shoulders through his shirt. Suddenly, she needed more. Needed to feel his skin. She pulled at the shirt, untucking it from his jeans and slid her hands underneath, first onto the small of his back, and then up his spine, her fingertips gently exploring, caressing. He hummed with pleasure against her lips and returned the favor, grasping her waist beneath her top, then running his hands up her rib cage. When he felt the edge of her bra, they slid around to her back. She was wondering if he was going to unhook it when a sound penetrated her consciousness.

“Momma?”

Pulling out of the embrace, they both turned toward the voice. Noah stood nearby, clutching Eddie, a concerned look on his face.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” she asked. He padded over to the two adults.

“I had a bad dream.” The boy looked at Rafael, his lower lip trembling. “I dreamed you left again and never came back.”

“Oh, _mijo_!” He picked Noah up and put him on his lap, cuddling him close, while his mother rubbed his back. “I’m not leaving again.”

“Promise?”

Rafael’s eyes met Olivia’s over the child’s head. He nodded at her, just like he’d done so many times in the courtroom.

“I promise.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rafael Barba has returned, months after leaving Olivia outside the courthouse. They’ve admitted their feelings for each other but where do they go from there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right friends, I never intended to continue this story after the last chapter. But some people (theoofoof that means you!) beat me down until I gave in. It has taken me a while to figure out where to take it next, but finally found a direction. I hope you enjoy it. Of course, now I can’t stop, so there will be at least one more after this. As always please let me know what you think!

Promising the five year he’d stay was one thing, but actually putting it into action proved more challenging for Rafael. For one thing, he didn’t have a place to live in New York. The house in Pennsylvania was a six month lease, so he had time to get his belongings back from there, but nowhere to put them. He hadn’t sold his apartment but it was sublet to tenants who’d signed a year’s lease. The first night he went to a hotel. He stayed at Olivia’s late into the night; them sat on the couch talking about their feelings and what had transpired in the time they were apart. She wanted to invite him to spend the night, but knew it was too soon. Plus, she didn’t want their first time to be when they could be interrupted by a small voice from down the hall, or worse yet, an appearance in her room.

The next day, he went to see his mother. As predicted, she was equally angry, but like Olivia, anger quickly turned to happiness that he had returned. She offered his old room to him as temporary housing, but he declined. Too many memories he’d worked hard to forget had the potential to return if he stayed there. So he remained at the hotel for the remainder of the week, pricey though it was. Uncharacteristically, Noah threw a small tantrum and said he “needed to see where Uncle Rafa was living” so he knew he was keeping his promise. Olivia brought him to the hotel one day after school. The boy was entranced by the tiny soaps and shampoos and the fact that the bathroom had both a shower and a gigantic tub. Olivia felt her face get warm as she thought about the things she and Rafael could do in a tub like that, and left the bathroom to take in the view of Central Park from the window, resting her forehead against the cool glass.

Rafael treated them all to dinner via room service. Noah was familiar with take out being delivered but to see the food being brought to the room on a rolling tray with silver dome-covered plates -- even over his cheeseburger and fries -- made his eyes go wide. When the boy was finished eating, they put a children’s movie on the large television and the adults settled on the small sofa while Noah sprawled on the bed.

“Liv, I need to go back to Pennsylvania. I’m out of clothes and I need to get my laptop and some other things,” Rafael said to her. “Come with me.”

She turned to him, an expression of surprise on her face. “You want me to go with you? To Pennsylvania?”

“Just for a couple days.”

“But Noah --”

He knew she hadn’t left Noah alone overnight since his biological grandmother -- Sheila Porter -- had taken him when they’d been shopping one day last December and had to be tracked down in New Hampshire.

“Noah will be fine for a couple days,” he assured her. “Lucy can watch him at your place. We can go over the weekend so she doesn’t have to take him to school.”

Olivia was very tempted. She hadn’t had any time off for at least a year; possibly more. And to go away with Rafael. Just for a short period. A small shiver ran down her spine.  _ Take a leap, _ a voice in her head whispered. She looked at her son, happily occupied with the movie. He didn’t have nightmares about Sheila anymore. And he loved Lucy. He would be okay without her for a couple days.

“All right,” she said. 

“Yes? Is that a yes?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s a yes,” she replied, with a smile.

He wanted to kiss her, but - conscious of Noah’s presence - settled for taking her hand where it lay on the cushions between them and squeezing it, returning her smile.

Noah was not as happy about the proposed road trip as his mother. 

“How do I know Uncle Rafa will come back?” he demanded, looking askance at the two of them, his arms crossed on his small chest.

“Because I’m going with him,” Olivia assured him. “We both have to come home because you’re here and because I have to work.”

“Why can’t I go with you?”

“Because we’ll be packing up my things,” Rafael said, kneeling down to Noah’s level and putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t a fun trip,  _ mijo _ . But, we’ll all go do something fun together once I get moved back.”

“Like the beach?” Noah suggested. Rafael hesitated, thinking about the beach and getting sand in places he preferred not to have sand.

“Yes, like the beach,” Olivia said. Noah had been asking to go to the beach for a while, since one of his classmates had gone and came back with tales of sandcastles and boardwalks and riding waves.

“Okay, then you and Momma can go and I’ll stay with Lucy,” the boy agreed.

Olivia kissed Noah goodbye and saw him off to school with Lucy on Friday morning, then waited for Rafael to pick her up, her overnight bag waiting by the apartment door. She double checked the notes she’d written and put on the kitchen counter. One was for Lucy with where they would be and their contact information, even though she knew hers was saved in the young woman’s phone. The other one was for Noah. Just a little note telling him she loved him and that she and Uncle Rafa would be back before he knew it. A new movie was propped up against the coffee maker. A small bribe to ensure he had a good weekend while she was away. Olivia briefly wondered if this was a good idea when there was a knock at the door. Opening it to Rafael standing there looking distractingly handsome in jeans she still wasn’t accustomed to seeing him wear, he read the look on her face.

“No having second thoughts,” he chastised gently. “Noah will be fine.” 

Olivia smoothed the lines she knew were between her brows and smiled at him. “I know.” Then she reached for his hand. “Let’s go before I change my mind, though.”

The drive to White Mills, PA was pleasant and not far at all, making Olivia a little annoyed that he had been less than a day’s drive away from them all along. But then he smiled at her from his place in the driver’s seat and all was forgiven again, knowing they would both be returning to New York together. She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

“Going to sleep?” Rafael asked.

“No,” she hummed. “Just relaxing.”

As she said it. Olivia realized she hadn’t relaxed much at all in the months since he’d left. But in the short time that he’d been back, she had slept better and not felt as tense. She smiled briefly, thinking that tonight they would be sharing a bed for the first time. The thought filled her insides with butterflies, but they were the good kind.

“What are you thinking about?” Rafael reached over and took her hand. Opening her eyes, Olivia looked at his profile as he turned his gaze back to the road in front of them. She didn’t want to be coy, so she settled for honesty.

“Tonight,” she said simply. “Us.”

He gave her hand a squeeze, glad he wasn’t the only one.

“Me too.”

She shifted in her seat slightly so she could look at him more without turning her head. Conversations like this were often easier in cars where one party had to concentrate on driving. She bit her lip, wanting to choose the right words.

“I want you to know, I would have -- I wanted to. Before. At my place.”

“But Noah.” 

“Exactly.”

“I know.” 

Rafael released her hand to brush the backs of his fingers across her cheek where a slight blush had formed when she admitted her thoughts. She was so beautiful, he thought. What a fool he was for running away. Olivia reached up and captured his hand in hers, holding his palm against her cheek. Then she lowered it and laced their fingers together, resting their hands on the seat between them. They had passed through several small towns but finally he flipped the turn signal and turned off the main road in one, navigating a couple tree-lined streets with older houses before pulling up in front of a smaller one and turning off the car. 

“This is it?” Olivia looked at the unassuming two story house with a front porch and a small, nearly trimmed yard. She had imagined where he had been living would be bigger, fancier.

“Home sweet home since February.”

Rafael climbed out of the car and stretched, his back stiff. The car might have been cheap and nondescript, but comfortable it really wasn’t. Olivia was out and doing the same thing on the sidewalk as he retrieved her bag from the back seat. 

“Sorry. I’m trading this in for something better as soon as I get a new job.”

She shook her head and grinned. “Not even close to as bad as some of those old squad cars.”

Following him up the steps to the porch, Olivia waited while he unlocked the front door and pushed it open to allow her to enter. The main room was unassuming, with a large fireplace dominating one wall; comfortable looking leather furniture facing it. Through a doorway at the other end she could see into a small kitchen. Stairs on her left led to the second floor. She indicated them and asked,

“Bathroom up there?”

“Yes. Help yourself. Hungry? I might have something here to make. Or we can go to the store. The only restaurant in town is a pizza place.”

“I’ll be right back and we can decide.” She shed her jacket, tossed it on a nearby chair and jogged up the stairs, her bladder a more urgent need than hunger for the moment.

The bathroom was spacious given the size of the house. As she washed her hands, Olivia eyed the large, old fashioned clawfoot bathtub. It reminded her of the one in the hotel bathroom, and again her imagination took her to thoughts of her and Rafael enjoying it together. Exiting the bathroom, she saw an open door that was obviously his bedroom and curiosity won out and her feet carried her in its direction instead of back toward the stairs. It was almost as stark as a motel room. Double bed, dresser with a mirror over it, nightstand with a reading lamp and a book laying open on the page where he stopped reading. The bed was neatly made -- no surprise -- and there were a few items on the dresser. She crossed to the bed and ran her fingers across the pillow on the side closest to the nightstand, wondering if it smelled like his cologne. So engrossed was Olivia in examining the space Rafael had spent his nights for the last few months, she didn’t hear him enter the room.

“Liv?”

She gasped and whirled around, hand instinctively going to her holster hip which, of course, was empty since she was off duty for the weekend.

“Hey, it’s just me.” He held his hands up, a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

“Rafael, you scared me!” Olivia pressed a hand to her chest where her heart was pounding, but instead of slowing down, it maintained an increased rate at getting caught snooping.

“Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay when you didn’t come back downstairs,” he told her, coming to stand in front of her near the bed.

She smiled ruefully. “You’ve caught me snooping.”

He took another step, their bodies almost touching. With her in casual shoes instead of the boots she favored for work, they were eye to eye.

“I’ve nothing to hide,” Rafael said softly, reaching out to touch her arm. It was gentle and on the sleeve of her sweater, but still she felt goosebumps race across her skin and couldn’t hold back a shiver that he misunderstood. “Are you cold? I turned the furnace down before I left. I can raise the thermostat.”

Olivia shook her head. They hadn’t kissed since they night he returned. Not really. A chaste peck here and there to say hello or good night, and her eyes flickered to his mouth. It wasn’t missed by him and he moved his hand from her arm to push her hair away from her face and comb his long fingers in the hair at the back of her head and his other to her hip to hold her in place so he could kiss her. She sighed against his mouth, and put her own hands at his waist, curling her fingers into the belt loops of his jeans, tugging him closer. It was a slow, gentle, seductive kiss and if Olivia could have curled her toes inside her sneakers, she would have. His mouth sipped at her lips, sucking one lip and then the other into his mouth, teasing her tongue with his before withdrawing it completely.

“Rafa,” she moaned softly when he took his lips away and moved them to her neck, honing in on the sensitive spot near her ear.

“Olivia,” he murmured as his lips mapped the soft skin. She tilted her head to allow better access, his hand in her hair supporting its weight.

“Yes.” 

It was a whispered acquiescence, before he could ask the question. The one that had hung unspoken between them since that night in her apartment. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia and Rafael enjoy a weekend together in Pennsylvania and talk about their future together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't going to write another chapter, let alone TWO more chapters of this. But some people (you know who you are) wore me down and honestly I'm glad because I enjoyed sending them away together. Alone. This is really the last one, although there will be a short epilogue that has been written for a very very long time. I hope you have enjoyed this as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Hey look! Another completed work!

He pulled back a little bit to look at her, noting the reddened skin on her neck from his beard. 

“Yes,” she repeated, reaching for the buttons on his shirt and beginning to undo them with fingers that appeared more confident than she felt. “I want to make love with you, Rafael.”

Pulling his shirt tails from his jeans, Olivia finished opening the buttons and pushed the fabric from his shoulders and down his arms. Rafael pulled it from his hands and hung it over a nearby chair. She’d often wondered what his physique was like and wasn’t disappointed. Broad shoulders led to well defined biceps and those sinewy forearms that were often a source of great distraction when he used to roll up his shirtsleeves during meetings over cases or visits to her apartment. Olivia placed her hands on his shoulders and slowly ran her finger tips down his arms to his wrists and back up, watching as a wave of goosebumps followed them. Rafael exhaled a sigh of pleasure and closed his eyes. From his collarbones, she trailed her hands over his pectoral muscles and flat nipples that were separated by dark hair, in which was nestled a gold religious medal that hung from his neck. Over the years when she’d had the opportunity to see him without a tie, Olivia had gotten an occasional glimpse of a gold chain and often wondered what it held, suspecting it was a cross and now idly wondered what the medal was. The thought fled at the sound of his voice.

“My turn,” Rafael said softly. 

He reached for the hem of her sweater and she raised her arms to let him pull it off over her head. It joined his shirt on the chair. Beneath her sweater she wore a camisole over her bra. Sliding both straps off of one shoulder, her bent his head to kiss her skin when his eye caught a small patch of skin, lighter than her olive toned complexion, right where the swell of her left breast began. It was almost triangular; wider at one end than the other. A scar, he realized. From William Lewis.  _ Bastard _ , he thought. Rafael reached a fingertip out and lightly touched the blemish. She shivered. Then he replaced his finger with his lips, while reaching out to slide the straps off her other shoulder. There was a matching scar on the other side and he moved his lips across the valley of her breasts to reverently kiss that one as well. He had seen the crime scene photos of course, but they were taken immediately following her rescue when the burns were fresh and her head and breasts were cropped out. Those were impersonal. They could have been from any of Lewis’ victims. But they weren’t. They were of Olivia. His Olivia. His beautiful, brave Olivia. She had threaded her fingers through his hair when he’d lowered his head. They tightened as his lips continued to worship her skin while his hands slipped beneath her top to caress the skin above the waist of her jeans, making her want to feel more of his touch.

“Rafael,” she whispered and he lifted his head to meet her eyes. 

Taking her hands from his hair she pulled off her camisole and then reached behind her back to unclasp her bra and let it fall from her arms. He unbuttoned her jeans and bent to push them and her underwear down over her hips and knees, as she toed off her shoes and used her feet to step out of the denim. Rafael’s hands skimmed up the sides of her legs as he straightened and came to rest on her hips, his eyes drinking in the sight of her.

“Liv,” he murmured, reverently. “You’re so beautiful.”

Beautiful. Olivia Benson had been called many things in her life. Stubborn. Smart. Driven. Strong. Brave. Pretty. Gorgeous. Sexy, even. That was one of Brian Cassidy’s favorite words for her. But she couldn’t remember the last time anyone called her beautiful. She knew she was attractive, but she wasn’t a fool. She was fifty years old. Things had started to sag a little, even though she worked hard to maintain a level of fitness that allowed her to physically keep up with the younger members of her squad. Then there were the scars. She had been fortunate that Lewis only branded her twice with the keys from her own key ring. Oddly enough they were nearly mirror images of each other. Like he’d been creating art on her body with his torture. They were low enough on her breasts that she didn’t have to worry about them showing unless she was all but naked. Nonetheless both Cassidy and Ed Tucker had avoided looking at or touching her breasts unless they were covered, which was why she had taken to wearing camisoles over her bra. They had even stayed on during sex with Tucker, after the one time she pulled it off and he froze, seeing the marks. Between that, her workload at the time and Noah, their sex life hadn’t thrived. But to hear Rafael call her beautiful in such an awed tone, made her blink back tears, which he noticed immediately.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. She shook her head.

“Nothing. Everything’s perfect. You’re perfect.” 

Olivia needed to see and feel the rest of him. He saw it in her eyes and quickly removed his own jeans and underwear. His arousal was evident and she reached out and circled him with a gentle hand. He inhaled sharply, and pulled her into his arms for a passionate kiss. They maneuvered their way to the bed and began a new chapter in their relationship. Their coupling was slow as they mapped each other’s bodies with their hands and mouths. Olivia felt like a part of her that had been missing her entire life had finally fallen into place when their bodies came together. Rafael watched her face as she came apart beneath him, her shudders and breathy cries of his name pushing him over the edge as well.

They dozed in each other’s arms for a while before Olivia got out from beneath the warmth of the quilt to use the bathroom, feeling his eyes watching her walk naked from the room; something she had never done with previous lovers. There had always been a robe nearby to cover her scars. With him, she felt no need. Finished, she turned to leave and her eyes lighted on the tub. Remembering her early thoughts, she gave in to impulse, turning on the faucets and adjusting the water to a comfortable temperature before plugging the drain.

“Rafa,” she called. “Why don’t you come join me?”

He’d heard the water go on but thought she was getting a shower and was lying there trying to decide if his hunger for food was still less than for her when he heard her call his name. Smiling, he threw back the covers and in a few steps was in the doorway to see her in the tub. She held out a hand. Rafael needed no additional encouragement and climbed into the vessel with her. It took a little adjusting of limbs, but they settled face to face, with her in his lap. A cloth in her hand, Olivia washed his arms, shoulders and chest, before slipping her hands beneath the water. He was ready for her again and she for him, she whispered in his ear, nipping gently at his lobe. Water splashed over the sides of tub as their movements became rhythmic. This time it was he who came first, and she followed when he slipped a hand between their bodies to touch the sensitive spot where they were joined. Finally the water grew cold and Rafael pulled the plug. They untangled their limbs and he helped Olivia stand on shaky legs. Then he turned the water back on and switched to the shower, turning her so the warm water hit her back. He gave her a lingering kiss and said, “I’ll let you get cleaned up. Meet me downstairs.”

She missed his presence as soon as he left the bathroom so she quickly showered and wrapped a towel around herself. Returning to the bedroom to dress, Olivia discovered he’d brought up her overnight bag. She put her bra back on and picked up her camisole but then hesitated and tossed it into the bag, before pulling her sweater back over her head. Adding clean underwear and a pair of stretchy leggings for comfort, she went downstairs in search of Rafael. A fire was crackling in the fireplace and she smelled coffee coming from the kitchen. She smiled. Coffee and Rafael Barba would always be synonymous. Nothing had changed in that regard. He was standing at the counter, whisking eggs and looked the picture of domesticity. He’d put his jeans back on, but swapped his button up for a sweatshirt. Like her, his feet were bare and it struck her as incredibly sexy. She slid her arms around his waist from behind and pressed her cheek to his shoulder.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He turned his head and she kissed his cheek. “Eggs? I don’t have much else.”

“Eggs are fine.”  _ Anything with you is fine, _ she thought.

They ate in front of the fireplace. Scrambled eggs with cheese, toast and some strawberries and blueberries he’d frozen to make a smoothie. Rafael told her how he found the house and what he’d been doing since he left. She laughed at the thought of him sitting and watching Netflix in his sweatpants. Conversation lapsed into comfortable silence. She was glad that hadn’t changed either. Olivia curled up against his side, warmed by his body and the fire and relaxed from lovemaking, she felt herself drifting off. He put an arm around her and allowed himself to relax as well -- possibly the first time he had really relaxed since February --  and soon both of them were sound asleep. 

Rafael woke first, wondering why he was cold and stiff. Then he remembered he was on his couch in Pennsylvania and the woman he loved was by his side. The fire had long died out and since he hadn’t turned the thermostat back up the house was cold.

“Liv,” he said quietly, kissing her temple. She mumbled in her sleep and snuggled closer to him, seeking his warmth. “Olivia.” He gave her a little shake and her eyes opened.

“We fell asleep.”

“We did indeed,” he replied.

“I’m cold.” Now awake, she shivered.

“Me too. Let’s go upstairs and get warm.”

“I like the way you think, counselor.” Olivia smiled sleepily at him.

They made their way upstairs, quickly shed their top layers of clothing; Olivia trading the discarded camisole for her bra and slipped into the bed. They moved into each other’s arms to warm up. 

“Still sleepy?” Rafael asked, his hands moving to caress the curves of her hips. She shifted them to press against him and could feel him growing hard against her.

“Mmmm, I could be convinced to stay awake,” Olivia replied, pressing her lips to his neck and sucking just hard enough to make a mark.

“Do that again and I could convince you,” he growled in her ear.

On Saturday, Rafael gave Olivia the grand tour of White Mills. First stop was the bakery/coffee shop for breakfast. Normally, he took his bear claw and coffee to go, but this time they lingered at one of the three small tables by the window. They talked about his plans for when they returned home. He had gotten a few job offers, but he didn’t want to accept anything too quickly without exploring additional options.

“Have you thought about where you’re going to live?” she asked, when they left the bakery, him with a second coffee in a takeout cup. 

“There’s a place in my building that’s become available and the owner is willing to sublet to me until my apartment’s sublease is up,” he told her.

“Oh.” Olivia tried not to let her disappointment show. 

Part of her wanted to suggest he move in with her and Noah. She knew their relationship was just out of the wrapper, but after spending the last 24 hours with him and waking up beside him, Olivia wanted to do that every morning. He knew her too well to not notice. As they walked down the sidewalk to the grocery store where he was planning on getting some empty boxes to pack up his belongings, he pulled her close so their steps were in tandem. 

“What? Were you thinking we’d move in together, Lieutenant?” he asked.

“No!” Her denial came too quickly and when he quirked an eyebrow at her, she felt a blush color her cheeks.

“Yes. I did think about it,” she admitted. “But it’s too soon to even consider that. I mean, other than the fact I know how you take your coffee and now I know how adorable your hair looks when you wake up in the morning, we don’t know enough about each other to do that.”  _ Yet, _ she added silently.

The April sun was warm that day, a clear indicator that winter was over and Spring was making its way toward summer. With him beside her and the warmth on her skin, Olivia could almost forget that freezing cold day in February had ever happened. He stopped walking, and she halted beside him. There was a bench along the sidewalk, with planters on either side, green tips of some spring flower just peeking through the soil. Rafael drew her down to sit beside him and took her hands in his.

“Olivia Benson, you may think you don’t know me that well, but you do. As for me, I know that your favorite flavor of ice cream is strawberry, but only that ridiculously expensive brand; otherwise you eat vanilla. Wednesday night is spaghetti night. You don’t have much time for reading but when you do, you like trashy romance novels with half dressed men on the cover. You pick at your nails when you’re annoyed, which is why you don’t wear colored nail polish very often. Shall I go on?”

She shook her head.

“I could, you know,” he said with that half smile.

“I have no doubt.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Okay, so we’ve established you know obscure details about me, but that doesn’t mean we could successfully share a living space.”

“Point taken.” Rafael raised one of her hands to his lips. “Let’s go get those boxes.”

They spent the remainder of the day packing the car with the belongings he’d taken to Pennsylvania and the few things he’d acquired. Most of them were books and clothes; his laptop and some kitchen items. Bedding and towels would be packed the next day and he would need to arrange to have the living room furniture and desk moved back to New York. Dinner was again in front of the fireplace. They’d bought ingredients at the store when they got the boxes, along with a bottle of wine.

“A little better than eggs and toast,” Rafael said, lifting wine glass in a toast.

They had finished eating and were sitting side by side on the floor in front of the fire, leaning against the couch.

“Rafa, it’s not the food, it’s the company,” Olivia said. “What about dessert?”

“We didn’t get anything for dessert, Liv.”

She took his wineglass and put it aside along with hers. Then she moved into his lap with one knee on either side of his hips. Leaning forward, she pressed open mouthed kisses to his neck, finding the spot she’d discovered he liked the night before.

“Oh,” he said, his voice slightly breathy, which made her smile as she continued down to the hollow of his throat when he let his head fall back against the couch. “I see what you have in mind.”

His hands went to her hips and found their way beneath her shirt, lifting it up and over her head. This time there was no camisole covering her bra, which he quickly dispatched to the floor beside them. His shirt joined it in short order before he shifted them so she was on her back and it was his mouth on her neck. They made love there on the carpet in front of the fire, its warmth keeping their bare skin from getting chilled. Afterward, Rafael pulled a blanket from the couch to cover them. Olivia pillowed her head on his chest, toying with the medal nestled in the hair there.

“It’s Saint Sir Thomas More. Patron saint of lawyers,” he told her. “My Abuelita gave it to me when I started law school.” Then after a beat. “She always thought I’d be a judge.”

“You still --”

“No, Liv. That dream is gone. No one is going to appoint me now.”

She wanted to argue with him. But part of her suspected he was right. Turning her head, she pressed a kiss on his jaw and snuggled closer, putting the hand that had been fingering the medal flat against his chest, feeling the comforting thud of his heartbeat beneath. They lay like that for a little while before his back began to remind him it would prefer his mattress upstairs. Olivia was almost asleep; he could tell by her breathing.

“Liv, let’s go upstairs,” he said softly. “The bed is more comfortable.”

“But if we go to upstairs to sleep in the bed, tomorrow will come and then we have to go back,” she said with a hint of a whine in her voice. Rafael chuckled and kissed the crown of her head.

“Tomorrow will come regardless,  _ mi amor _ .”

Tomorrow did come and they did go back to New York with just a short delay in the morning when she joined him in the shower. It seemed to both of them that it took less time to get home than it had to get to the small town, and soon they were looking at more concrete and buildings along the road than trees and conversation slowed as if that would help slow the return to reality. As much as Olivia wanted to get back to her son, she was loathe for their time together to end. Rafael’s thoughts kept returning to their conversation the day before when she hinted at the thought of them living together. Both mornings he had awoken before she did and took the time to simply gaze at her and appreciate how fortunate he was she had given him a second chance. He knew he really didn’t deserve it. She could have thrown him out of her apartment -- probably should have -- and said she never wanted to see him again. But for some reason, the beautiful, amazing woman beside him loved him back. He hadn’t signed anything to sublease the other apartment yet. Maybe, just maybe, he thought. Noah was overjoyed to see them when they entered Olivia’s apartment, and abandoned the board game he was playing with Lucy to run to them.

“Momma! Uncle Rafa! You’re home!”

Rafael swung him up into his arms and the three shared a hug as Lucy looked on, smiling. Home. The word echoed in Rafael’s head. Home for him was where Olivia and Noah were. Not some strange apartment with someone else’s furniture in it. He just hoped Olivia felt the same way. There wasn’t an opportunity to bring up the subject until after dinner was made and eaten, Noah bathed and tucked into bed. The boy had monopolized their time and attention.

“I’m sorry we kept you so late,” Olivia said, when they finally closed Noah’s door and walked back to the living room. “Can you still get the key to your new place tonight?”

She assumed he would be moving into the sublet in his building right away, since he’d told her he checked out of the hotel before they went to Pennsylvania.

“About that,” Rafael said, suddenly feeling nervous, like the night he’d returned to New York and stood outside her door. “I haven’t actually signed any paperwork or paid any rent yet.”

He walked across the room and stood at the window, just as he had that first night. Olivia followed him and put a hand on his back.

“Rafa?” 

He turned around to face her.

“What are you trying to say? Just spit it out,” she said, her heart starting to pound as she wondered if he was going to tell her he’d changed his mind after all and he wasn’t going to stay in New York.

Rafael saw a flash of concern cross her face and realized what she was thinking and immediately reached out to take her hands in his.

“I don’t want to sublet that other apartment. I want to move in with you and Noah. That is, if you’ll have me. It doesn’t have to be a permanent thing. Just a short trial run, maybe. To see if we can make it work.”

Relief flooded her and she let out the breath she’d been holding.

“You thought I was going to tell you I was leaving again, didn’t you?” he asked, releasing her hands and pulling her close. She rested her forehead on his chest.

“Yes. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have doubted you,” Olivia whispered.

“No, Liv. You have every right to. Forget what I just said. I’ll take that other apartment, take things slower.”

Her head shot up and she grabbed a fistful of his shirt in each hand.

“I don’t want to take it slow. We’ve been taking it slow for six damn years. I want you here. I want you in my bed when I go to sleep and when I wake up. I want you to make dinner with me and tuck Noah in at night. I --”

Rafael slanted his mouth across hers, effectively cutting off her words.

**Author's Note:**

> Judge Morris Torledsky really was a character on L&O and SVU according to IMDB. I just gave him a wife, who, in my head looks somewhat like Doris Roberts.
> 
> Never fear.....there's more coming.


End file.
